


you're the only place that feels like home

by HeartonFire



Series: you don’t do it on purpose, but you make me shake [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, KastleNetwork, Morning Cuddles, Morning Sex, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex, kastlesmutweek, ksw: tantalizing tuesday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-12 04:26:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20158738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartonFire/pseuds/HeartonFire
Summary: Frank needs a place to stay, and Karen can't let him keep sleeping on the couch.





	you're the only place that feels like home

**Author's Note:**

> For KastleSmutWeek 2k19:  
tantalizing tuesday: **morning lazy - sleepy sex - bed sharing | “i need a place to stay.”**

“I need a place to stay.”

That’s where it had started. Weeks ago, after months of silence, Frank Castle turned up on Karen Page’s doorstep, duffel bag in hand and a sheepish expression on his face, under all his bruises.

She had never been able to turn him away. She had never had that kind of self-control.

So, she let him in. He slept on the couch. He was quiet, respectful of her space. He cleaned up after himself and made her coffee in the morning. 

By the second week, she had made him a key. He had taken it, with shaking fingers.

“I’ll find a place.”

“I know. But if you need it.”

The only thing that changed was that Frank would go out while Karen was at work and get groceries. She would come home and find dinner on the stove, or in the oven, and Frank would press a glass of wine into her hand. It was nice. It was comfortable. Her place felt like home, in a way it never had before.

By the third week, Karen started to feel guilty, making him sleep on her lumpy old couch. It couldn’t be comfortable. She had fallen asleep on it after work enough times to know that was a recipe for a stiff neck.

From the look on his face when she proposed sharing a bed, she might as well be asking him to throw her in front of a speeding train.

“No. No way. I’m not going to take up your space like that.”

“Frank. Listen to me. It’s more comfortable. You need to rest. You’re still not fully healed.”

He grumbled something, and Karen smiled. 

“At least think about it.”

He stayed firm for another night, but when Karen got up a little early and saw him groaning as he stretched to get the knots out of his back, she put her foot down. He still tried to protest, but Karen wasn’t having it. After two glasses of wine that night, she marched him into the bedroom and sat him down.

“Just sleep here. One night. If it’s not better than the couch, I’ll never say another word about it.”

He never went back to the couch. For those first few days, he curled onto his side, like he was trying to take up as little space as possible. She could feel the tension rolling off him in waves, and she was fairly sure he didn’t sleep much, but this was a big step for him, for them, so she wasn’t about to push it.

But then, one morning, she woke up to Frank’s arm, locked around her waist. His whole body was pressed against her back, and she could feel his breathing, slow and deep. Karen had never seen him sleep before. He was always awake before her, up with the sun. But not on this particular day.

She managed to turn over without waking him. Their faces were so close together, their noses almost touched. He looked softer, somehow, younger, in sleep. His grip on her waist tightened, and he mumbled something that might have been her name. 

With a start, he jolted awake, blinking wildly as he tried to process what was happening. He started to pull his arm away, but Karen stopped him, with a gentle hand on his wrist. She could feel his pulse jumping erratically in his veins.

“Frank, it’s okay.”

He stared at her, like he was trying to decide if he was still dreaming. He shook his head, fingers twitching against her ribs.

“Just breathe.”

His heartbeat began to slow as they breathed together. His eyes still looked wild, haunted, like he was waiting for everything to come crashing down around him. 

“Is this okay?” Karen asked, trailing her fingertips up and down his arm. He nodded. He hadn’t spoken since he had woken up. He was just watching her, holding her, letting her touch him. She was afraid to push him too far, but this felt like progress. 

She started to get up, but Frank’s arm tightened around her again. 

“Stay,” he said, voice low and rough. “Please.”

She smiled, remembering the first time he had said those words. They were a long way from red masking tape and hospital bed restraints, that was for sure. She had known, even then, that there was something more to Frank. More than the violence, more than the rage. He was still a man, and she believed in him. She always had.

“Frank?”

“I just,” he said, avoiding her eyes. “I just, uh, I haven’t done this in a while.”

Karen’s heart broke. She wondered how long it had been since someone had touched Frank without meaning to hurt him, how long since someone had held him, been held by him. She relaxed back into his arms and he leaned his forehead against hers.

The sun was streaming through the curtains, but it didn’t matter. It was a Saturday, and she had nowhere to be, except right here.

When she opened her eyes again, Frank was watching her, those brown eyes impossibly warm and deep in the morning light. His gaze flickered to her lips, then back up to her eyes, and Karen closed the space between them, finally crossed that ultimate line that had separated them for as long as they had known each other. 

His lips were soft against hers, and she felt him hum into her mouth as she pressed closer. She knew he might panic at any moment, so she wanted to take it slow, but his tongue was already tangling with hers before she could catch her breath. 

“Karen,” he mumbled, as he mouthed at her neck and down to her collarbone. He froze when he reached the edge of her shirt. “Wait. We can’t. I shouldn’t.”

He tried to push away from her, but Karen wasn’t going to let him spiral down this line of thinking. It was what had kept them apart for so long. 

“Just breathe.”

He did, eyes falling closed, and Karen pressed soft kisses to his nose, his forehead, his eyelids, the corner of his mouth. He sighed, and she curled into him, head under his chin.

It didn’t go any further. They stayed there until they were both hungry enough to hear the rumbling of their stomachs. Frank made them some eggs and toast, and they pretended nothing was different.

Everything was different. The line that had always divided them was getting fuzzier by the day, and every time Karen woke up, wrapped up in Frank, it got blurrier still.

He kissed her goodbye when she left for work, pressed a kiss to her forehead as he handed her a plate with dinner on it. She kissed his cheek when he took out the garbage, and leaned against him while they watched TV. It was warm and safe and comfortable, but it couldn’t stay that way. Not with them. 

A week after that first morning, that first kiss, Karen woke from a particularly steamy dream and she needed to do something about it. She didn’t want to push him, she knew what Frank had been through, and how hard it had been for him even to get comfortable with touching her. 

But she needed him to know that she wanted him, however she could have him. Her need was so strong it was a physical ache to touch him, to be touched by him, to feel his skin against hers. It didn’t have to be sex. She just wanted to be here with him, open and vulnerable and naked to each other in that last way that they hadn’t yet.

“Morning,” he mumbled, smiling at her through his growing beard. He had come to bed late the night before and the sun wasn’t even fully up yet. She knew he still struggled with nightmares, and she did her best to calm him, but she knew how hard it could be to sleep when you knew what was coming for you when you closed your eyes.

“Good morning.” She kissed him, long and slow and deep, hand behind his head as she turned to face him. She was still kissing him when she rolled them over to straddle his hips. Frank’s hands fell to her waist and he blinked up at her, not afraid, not worried, but curious.

“What are you doing?”

Karen bit her lip and pulled off her shirt. His eyes widened and one hand lifted to brush the underside of her breast, his thumb just ghosting over her nipple. She felt the goosebumps rising on her skin and stayed as still as she could, let him explore her.

“So goddamn beautiful,” he mumbled, pulling her down to kiss him again. The feeling of her breasts against his bare chest was everything Karen wanted and not enough.

His fingers looped into the waistband of her shorts and tugged a little. Karen lifted her hips to help him slide them off. He was staring at her now, like she couldn’t be real, like this couldn’t possibly be happening.

Karen took his hands and placed them on her thighs. “I want you to touch me, Frank.”

His eyes were nearly black with desire and he sat up to meet her, pulling her to his chest. His arms were strong around her, his face buried in her shoulder.

“You’re sure?”

She nearly laughed, but bit back the urge. The last thing she needed was to scare him off now. “You’ve been sleeping in my bed for weeks. Of course, I’m sure.”

He didn’t move, and Karen knew his mind had to be racing. As far as she knew, she was the first woman he’d been with since Maria died, and she didn’t want him to have any doubts.

She kissed him again, gently. “Are _ you _sure?” She needed to know. She needed him to know. She didn’t want anything to come between them. Not after this.

The smile that broke over his face was so soft, she could have cried. He took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead.

“I’ve been sure for a long time. Just too much of a coward to admit it.”

He eased her down beside him and shucked off his boxer-briefs. Karen had taken the first step; she knew she had to let Frank do this at his own pace.

His fingers traced down her body, pausing just before they touched the spot she needed. She squirmed, hips lifting as she tried to get him there, but he just smiled.

“Just breathe.”

She scowled at him, but it was wiped off her face a second later when he swiped his thumb over her clit, hard enough her head fell back with a gasp. 

“That feel good?” he mumbled, shifting to get a better angle. His finger found the spot that made her moan and tense against him, and he circled it, over and over until Karen couldn’t hold back any longer and came with a gasp of his name.

“Jesus, Frank,” she whispered, shaking when he touched that spot again as she came down. She felt electrified, powerful, alive in a way she hadn’t in a very long time. Possibly ever.

She reached down between them and stroked him, the first touch of her hand drawing a groan from deep in his chest. She squeezed a little and he took her hand, kissing it gently.

“Not going to last, you keep that up.”

“Please, Frank.” She wanted him inside her. It wasn’t a question. She could feel how much he wanted it, too.

“Condoms?”

Karen reached over and pulled one out of the box in her bedside drawer. Hadn’t had much use for them recently, but she was damned glad she had them now. 

He lay down to roll it on, and tugged her over to straddle him again.

“I want to see you,” he whispered, touching her cheek so gently it was like he was afraid she’d shatter.

Karen lifted her hips and sank down onto his length, stretching around him. His hands were back on her hips, fingers clutching at her flesh, and Karen felt the heat of him watching her. Frank was wrapped around her, inside her, and he wasn’t letting go. She was his. Always had been.

She ground against him, circling her hips to hit that sensitive spot over and over until she felt another orgasm building. Frank reached down to help her get there, and just the brush of his fingertip against her clit was enough to send her over the edge.

She collapsed against him, and he stroked her hair, nudging her over to lie beside him. There was something so intimate about that first thrust, face-to-face in her bed, something that made it all finally seem real. She kissed him desperately. Words weren’t enough. They were connected in a way she had never been able to explain, and now, there was no going back. This was it. 

Frank held her against him, kissing her right back, thrusting wildly until he went rigid and let out a low grunt, collapsing back into the pillows, breathing hard.

He got up to clean himself up a little, and Karen padded barefoot into the kitchen to put on some coffee, wearing nothing but Frank’s t-shirt that he had left on the floor the night before. She didn’t hear him coming up behind her, but suddenly, his arms were around her waist, nose nuzzling into her shoulder.

“Looks good on you,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to her neck. “Looked better off you.”

Karen grinned. “Then let’s go back to bed.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this one! I'll be back tomorrow with another smutty oneshot, so see y'all tomorrow! :)


End file.
